


A Close Shave

by MaxWrite



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Shaving, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-04
Updated: 2011-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:50:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxWrite/pseuds/MaxWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what happens when Fred gets bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Close Shave

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Daily Deviant](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/daily_deviant/).

Fred pulled on a clean t-shirt, getting himself dressed one weekend morning while going over, in his head, all the things he needed to do for the shop before Monday. When his head popped up out of the shirt's collar, George's face was peering into the bedroom at him.

"What'd you do?" George asked.

"What?" Fred followed George's gaze and looked down at himself. "Oh, that." He looked up at George with a grin. "What do you think?"

George came into the room, his eyes glued to Fred's bare lower half. Fred stood there proudly, his jeans and underwear still waiting patiently for him on his bed. He put his hands on his hips, displaying himself, and waited for George's assessment.

"What do I think?" George murmured to himself, frowning and cocking his head.

"Yeah. Something along the lines of how no one's ever looked quite so cool in nothing but a t-shirt and socks, probably, right?"

George smirked as he came to a halt before Fred and finally met his eyes. "I think somebody got a bit bored while I was away yesterday, that's what I think."

"What, you've never thought about shaving down there?"

George shrugged. "I s'pose." He looked back down at Fred's perfectly smooth groin area, frowning and tilting his head from side to side as though there was an angle that would make what he was seeing look less odd. "Never bothered, though. Seemed a bit silly. And isn't it itchy?"

"Not yet … Stop looking at it like that, what's the matter with you?"

"This what you do when I leave you alone? Shave things?"

"Heh, still think it a good idea for us to get a dog?"

George smiled. "I'll be sure to let you fall asleep first from now on, that's for sure." Then his brow furrowed again and he went silent.

"What's the matter?" asked Fred. "It's not that weird, is it?"

"No, it's just … It's nothing, never mind."

"No, come on, tell me." Fred gently punched George's arm, trying to get him to look up.

"Nah, it's stupid."

"Well, better to get it out so we can both have a laugh. Come on, out with it."

George sighed. "Don't laugh. It's just that … we don't match anymore." Fred could see him pouting a little, but George quickly got himself in check, wiping his face clean of all expression and rolling his eyes at himself. "I told you it was stupid."

It _was_ stupid, but Fred suddenly realised that he felt it too. He hadn't even considered it until George had said it, and now it was pecking away at the back of his brain.

"Well, it'll grow back," he said, looking down at himself.

"I know," George said, shuffling his feet. "I told you, Fred, it's stupid."

"Does feel a bit weird, though, doesn't it? Looking so different."

George stopped moving. "You think so?"

"Yeah, kinda. Now you mention it." Fred met George's eyes and saw a hint of hopefulness there. He gave George a soft, lopsided smile. "I can be sentimental too, you know."

George smiled, his shoulders relaxing. "Looks nice, though. Weird, but nice. How's it feel?"

Fred thrust his hips forward a bit. "You tell me."

George looked down again, reached out without hesitation and brushed his fingertips across the smooth, pale flesh above Fred's flaccid prick where a healthy ginger nest had once resided. Fred shivered a bit. He still wasn't used to the feeling of his own fingers touching his newly bare skin, so the touch of someone else, even someone as familiar as George, sent a strange thrill through his body. It didn't go unnoticed.

George looked up again, his fingers pausing. "Was that a good shudder or a bad one?"

"Fucking amazing," Fred said, breathing the words as though he'd been holding his breath. "Do it again."

George touched his brother again, this time with the backs of his fingers, watching as they brushed across from left to right. He smiled to himself. "That's so weird."

"Good weird or bad weird?" Fred asked, sounding a bit breathless. George looked at him again, and this time his gaze was soft, but still bright with that familiar mischievous glint. He stared into Fred's eyes with the same look of excited wonder he always got when one of them had a particularly brilliant idea for a prank or new product. Or when they felt particularly connected. It was a look that didn't require words, the kind of look that could speak volumes from across a crowded room. George's lips curled into a soft smile, and when his fingers brushed against the base of Fred's now swelling cock, they wrapped around the shaft without hesitation.

With a grin and even a little giggle, Fred leaned in to press his forehead to George's. George rubbed their noses together. Moments like this could happen almost any time, when the two of them would almost revert to naughty little boys, back to those early days of secret experimentation in the dead of night in their bedroom at the Burrow, tucked beneath the covers, curious hands exploring, discovering, making sure the adolescent changes that were happening to one body were also happening to the other. They'd always had to check, make sure they were keeping up with each other, staying identical. How could Fred have forgotten that? Now he'd gone and made them not identical anymore.

But it was okay, because the look in George's eyes told him that they were both thinking the very same thing.

They went to the bathroom together and Fred got the water running in the tub while George disrobed. Then Fred did the same and the two of them got into the tub together, George sitting on the edge while Fred knelt before him.

"Did you use magic when you did it?" George asked, spreading his legs and leaning back as best he could on the narrow edge of the tub.

Fred set to work getting George wet between his legs with a face cloth that he saturated with warm water and then squeezed out as he pressed it to George's crotch. "Yeah, I did," he replied. "But I think I'll try it the Muggle way with you."

"Oh, you think I'm about to let you bring a blade that close to my man bits, do you?"

Fred smirked. "Oi, come on. If anyone's an expert at using dangerous objects in delicate situations, it's me." He looked up at George with a roguish twinkle in his eye. "You trust me, don't you, Georgie?"

George smiled lazily at him. "Yeah, I trust you," he said in almost a whisper.

That was all Fred needed to hear. He laid the cloth over the edge of the tub and went for shaving cream next. He covered George's groin with fluffy, white foam and then picked up the razor.

"Why do you even have that if you used magic?" George asked.

"Thought I'd give it a shot. Shaved a bit with it, deemed it utterly archaic and went back to my wand, like a civilised person. Hold still, now," he warned as he pressed the blade to the top of George's ginger thatch. He gripped George's thigh with his free hand as he leaned in close and began raking the razor downwards in short strokes. After only a few swipes, he brought the razor to the running water and dipped the head into the stream to clean it, then brought it back to George and kept going.

George's legs fell open a bit more as he watched. "Where'd you learn to do that, then?"

"Figured it out, didn't I? Not exactly potions making. Not hurting you, am I?"

"Nah."

Fred settled into his task, his tongue poking out a bit as he followed the growth pattern of George's pubic hair, meticulously shaving it away, cleaning the razor, then shaving more, over and over. He felt George's hand on his shoulder, gently gripping and caressing there; a silent encouragement, a wordless reiteration of George's trust. George's cock began to stiffen and Fred couldn't help it, he had to lower his face to it and nuzzle at it, just a bit. George's hand went to the back of Fred's neck, then, rested lightly there as Fred snuggled him.

When all the hair was gone from above, George lifted his half-hard cock out of the way so Fred could get at his balls. Fred covered them in shaving cream and carefully stretched the skin so he could shave it properly. His own cock was still pulsing hard, leaking into the bath water. He wanted to lean in and take George's dick in his mouth. The head was deep pink, the slit glinting at him in the light. He wanted to taste it, and he tried to remember the last time he'd done just that, but now really wasn't the time. Sharp objects pressed to delicate bits required one's full attention. As confident as Fred appeared, if he even nicked George, even a tiny bit, he would never forgive himself.

"You're good at that," George murmured. Fred felt a hand in his hair, petting. He finally finished and looked up to find George gazing at him, and Fred wondered if George had been watching the process at all. Fred felt a happy little tingle in his belly at the thought that maybe George hadn't been watching, that he trusted Fred enough to not have to keep an eye on things, even sharp things near his manhood.

Without a word, Fred rinsed the razor and set it aside, then he rinsed George off with the face cloth. He caressed George's freshly shaven crotch with the soaking wet cloth, warm water cascading down, washing away remnants of shaving cream, leaving nothing but baby-soft, paler-than-pale skin behind.

"Blimey," George said, looking down at himself. "Well, that's a hell of a thing."

"You like it?"

"Like it? Dunno how I'm gonna get any work done with my hands in my trousers all day long."

"Same way you did before, I reckon."

George gave Fred a punch on the arm for that. Then Fred sat quietly in the tub, gazing up at George with a soft smile, his eyes darting down to George's crotch again and again.

George got a knowing look in his eye. "Go on, then," he murmured, reaching out to brush Fred's fringe out of his eyes.

"What?" Fred asked innocently.

"Oh, come on, I know you want to. It's written all over your face." When Fred continued to play dumb, George rolled his eyes, retracted his hand and leaned back again, gripping the tub's edge on either side of himself. Fred glanced down between George's spread legs.

"I want you to," George assured him.

Fred lowered his eyes back down to George's crotch, to the hard-on which was now very full and looked even bigger than normal with all the hair gone, and the urge to suck grew stronger. Fred licked his lips, leaned in and brushed his lips against the head. He parted his lips and extended his tongue, started licking, kissing, tasting. He moved down the shaft, brushing his nose against it, smelling, inhaling deeply, George's scent almost soothing him. Fred's need to suck wasn't even completely sexual; he just wanted the closeness, wanted his twin in his mouth.

Although it was at least a little sexual. He played with his own erection as he began sucking. It certainly wasn't what they'd come in here to do, and on a different day they might have gotten out without it coming to this, but today just wasn't that day. Some days they fell rather naturally into each other's arms after going weeks without even a suggestive glance. It had been a while since the last time. Maybe that was what had triggered it. Maybe Fred just needed to recharge. He definitely felt a surge of something almost energising as he made George whimper and whine and squirm and then finally come in Fred's mouth.

Fred swallowed, and as George began to go soft, Fred released his cock and began nuzzling at George's crotch, kissing the now smooth skin, then up further onto his belly, sucking and licking, suddenly unable to get close enough.

George nudged at Fred's erection with his foot. With a groan, Fred moved away, leaned back against the opposite side of the tub and spread his legs. It was an awkward position, and Fred had to raise his feet up onto the tub's edge, on either side of George, but it felt amazing, being spread open like this and letting George touch him. The ball of George's foot caressed up and down his shaft. Fred held onto George's ankle and rubbed against him, tempted to grab a dollop of shaving cream to make things a little more slippery. But then George, apparently needing to be closer, slipped down into the tub. They repositioned so they were length-wise in the tub and George lowered his head to take Fred in his mouth.

Fred slumped down a little and raised a leg to hang it over the tub's edge. George curled up between his legs, a tight squeeze for both of them, but they managed it, the steady stream of tap water falling down onto George's feet. Fred was strongly reminded of their time in the womb, a time he couldn't even really remember, the two of them cuddled up in the relatively small space together, floating peacefully in their own private bath.

Fred snickered to himself at the thought.

"What's so funny?" asked George, taking Fred from his mouth for a moment to speak, then going right back to work.

"Nothing. Just … weird things go through your head when you're getting sucked off."

George chuckled around Fred's girth. He came up again and said, "Yeah, which reminds me, we're out of milk."

Fred put his head back and laughed much harder than someone getting a blowjob should be laughing. He could feel the vibrations of George's laughter as well as George continued sucking him, but then George got serious about his task once again, put his full effort into it, and Fred's laughter was just dying away as his climax began to pulse through his cock, spilling out into George's mouth.

George sucked him dry and then sat up awkwardly. He leaned against Fred, putting his head on Fred's chest, and Fred enveloped George in his arms.

"Feel better?" George asked as Fred petted his hair.

Fred didn't need to ask for clarification. Their connection was never as strong as when they did this together, and even if Fred hadn't been feeling bad beforehand, he always felt better afterwards. "Mm-hm," he hummed.

"Me too," George whispered. "I was thinking … maybe that's why you were so quick to make yourself look different than me. Maybe we'd been too far apart for too long."

It hadn't occurred to Fred before, but it made perfect sense. He opened his eyes and looked down at George. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's okay. Problem solved, see?" George looked down to pet his own smooth crotch, then did the same to Fred's. Fred touched him too and they both relaxed again and casually fondled each other.

"This shit's gonna itch like hell when it starts growing in, isn't it?" George suddenly asked.

Fred grinned. "Probably."

END


End file.
